Cinnamon Girl

     I cuddle with my lover; feeling your warm body envelope me, still slightly sweaty from our intense lovemaking and you feel so good. I turn my head a little and lightly kiss your face and lips.Thanking all that is good in the Universe for the joy of having you in my life.  I know how lucky and how blessed I am.  Snuggling in closer to you, wanting to feel all of your skin next to mine, the hair on your body tickling my back, I am smiling, happy and content. How I wish this moment could last forever.

      I hope you are sleeping well and dreaming of me. I feel you stir just moving against me. Your strong arms come around and hold me. I feel safe.  I feel loved. I just love being with you. I just love you.

    I woke up late this morning to the sun shining in my eyes. As soon as I awoke, I could still feeling the tingling in my body from where you bit and rubbed last night. What a night!  I just keep thinking it can't get any better and yet it does.  I lay in bed just relishing the feeling of being yours, being in your arms.  I know I have to start my day but just five more minutes laying with you, my love, thinking of our lovemaking. But I know cannot delay any longer, I need to get up.  So very carefully and reluctantly, I slip out of your arms. You stir again, but don't awaken.  Heading to the bathroom, I pick up my slacks and shirt, panties and bra scattered on the bedroom floor and put them in the hamper.  I can smell you on me and I hate to shower this morning; just wanting it to linger. In the shower, the warm water feels so good on my body.  I load my scrubby with cinnamon shower gel and rub it over me. It makes lots of bubbles and feels so soft against my skin,  I think of you last night, your soft tongue licking the small drips of honey off of my body.  Already I am getting aroused. I shampoo my hair trying to get my mind on my day, but you make it so very hard. I think of your touch, your hands calloused, but gentle caressing me, arousing me, as the warm water rinses my skin, the soap and water running over my nipples made tender by your hands and teeth. I audibly sigh. I use the hand held shower head and rinse off.  The feeling of the soothing water on my body..the body you have branded for all time as yours.  I love the feeling of the tingling, going down my belly flowing between my legs. Soaping well again, the scent of cinnamon just lightly mixing with our scent, the scent of our sexual intimacy. I resist the urge to touch myself because since you have been in my life, nothing is the same. You have spoiled me; you are such an incredible lover.  You have worked your magic on me and made me want only you- just you. You have me totally enamored; I wonder if you know how you make me want to lose control. I wonder if you could ever know how much I adore you; how I have built my world around you. 

     I step out of the shower and dry myself with my big fluffy, white towel. Walking into the bedroom, you are gone. The towel wrapped around me, I lie back, on your pillow; wishing, remembering every touch, every kiss, every caress.  Just the scent of you is enough to awaken my desire for you.  I can barely control myself. Touching myself gently, I am moist from the shower and wet from thoughts of you.  I lay back thinking of you, your smile, your eyes, and your body. A car horn beeps outside and brings me back to reality. My ride is downstairs and I am not ready.  Damn! I quickly throw my black maillot swimsuit on, my black yoga pants and a white v neck t-shirt, grab my canvas gym bag, slip into my sneakers, still untied and run out the backdoor, smiling as I get into my girlfriend's car, feeling so happy, so well loved and so wanted, knowing it's just a matter of time till I am back in my baby's arms...back in your arms.  She notices my smile and teases me about "getting some".  She just has no idea! I smile not saying a word.  She is jealous enough already.  There is only one you, and she has already asked if you have an available brother, uncle, dad.   
    The only reason I go to yoga classes, is so I can get a ride to the gym.  Left to my own devices, I would skip yoga and head right to the pool, playing in the warm water for hours, but for me, yoga is necessary more for my mind than body. Practicing breathing techniques, meditation, guided visualizations, chanting, and reading inspirational texts all help me center and focus. It helps me calm my ever inquisitive mind and to focus my gratitude for all I have. The eight limbs of yoga are social restraints, personal observances, postures, breath control, sense withdrawal, concentration, meditation and ultimately, transcendence. This final limb, known as Samadhi, is the ultimate objective of yoga: to transcend the self and become one with the universe. And most days I wonder how the cat tilts and spinal twists are supposed to make me one with the universe. But who am I to argue with 5000 years of wisdom?  After the class, I head to the heated pool for an hour, my reward.  On the way home, we stop for coffee and croissants decadently filled with rich, dark chocolate.  Chatting about what has been going on in her life, filling me in on the various men she has been dating, my friend stops, looks at me and asks  "you've been very quiet today, is the honeymoon over? You can tell me; we are best friends".  I look at her beaming. "Don't think it will ever be over," I reply, "I have found the perfect man."  She looked at me and earnestly responded, "He really loves you.  He is crazy about you.  And you deserve it."

      Coming home, relaxed from the pool.  I make myself a hot cup of tea and sit in an overstuffed dove grey chair in our living room. I sit sideways, my feet over one of the arms, cradled, reading Rolling Stone Magazine, trying to figure out who exactly is cool, why and do I agree.  Glancing at the clock, I sit drinking my English Breakfast tea silently planning.  You are off on another of your projects, no doubt completely engrossed in measurements, sawdust, plaster and 2 X 4's.  This gives me time to tidy up and start dinner.  I chuckle to myself knowing what dessert is and it isn't apple cobbler.

    Our home is beautiful, efficiently modern, but with warmth and charm that belies its size.  It always seems to be the place our friends and blended family gather.  The colors we use in each room are the soft and muted colors of nature, from the sandy hues of the beach to the lush tones of a wooded forest, using rich accent colors that engage you. With plants everywhere, from the pale delicate Phalaenopsis orchids in our bedroom to the verdant ficus tree in our living room to the fragrant pots of herbs on the kitchen window sill. You have made sure everything in it, is "us", the colours, the textures, all inviting and comfortable.  You listened to my input, added yours and customized it precisely.  You did the construction and I did the decor. We planned and searched to find exactly what we wanted, both of us at an age where we no longer settle in any area of our life. The time for "making do" was long over for both of us.  You are the man I had always dreamed of.  Life had given me a present I never even knew I how much I craved.  And although I do love our home... I know I would give it all up in a heartbeat,  I know where you are, is my home.

    Getting up, I put on the white chef's apron, that used to be my grandmother's.  I look in the fridge. What to make for dinner?  It has to be something that will hold until you are finished with your work.  Since I am never exactly sure when that will be, I have to make something that will keep, easy to reheat. I decide on meatballs and linguine.  Since it is a crisp autumn day, it's a perfect day for simmering a homemade sauce.  Browning the meat in fragrant olive oil, adding plum tomatoes basil and garlic, soon the kitchen is filled with the warm and comforting smells, I remember from my Nonna's kitchen.  She taught me everything I know about cooking with love.  Family and friends always congregated in her kitchen.  The food was delectable and plentiful.  No one ever went away hungry.  And I cook the same way, simple, delicious food. The homemade pasta is drying on a rack, ensalada is made and in the refrigerator and fresh crusty Italian bread is on the counter. 

       I pass by the dining room mirror and laugh; I'm not exactly glamorous, with white flour smudged on my face, my apron abstractly painted with tomato sauce. But before I have a chance to even clean myself up, you walk in the back door to the kitchen.  Excited, I rush over to kiss you. You look tired and haggard.  But a smile creeps across your face, "Having fun I see?" as you wipe flour from the tip of my nose.  Winking at you, "Always, but you're early, dinner wont be ready for a hour yet. Sorry, honey." I answered your unspoken question.  "I really want a shower, so it all works out." you say then pausing,  "Something smells really good."  You kiss my neck and you tell me, "mmm yes just delicious."  Smiling I tell you to go hop in the shower and I will bring up tea for us.

       You go upstairs and shortly after I follow with mugs of steaming tea in my hands. I put them down on our bureau and sit on the bed to wait for you. I have your favorite bath towel in hand. I look for the almond oil to massage your back and shoulders. I know a hot shower and a good back rub will unwind you. I hear the water stop in the shower and I come in in time to see you stepping out.  You smile at me, beads of water still clinging to your skin.  Standing still, looking at me, you are so inviting, so desirable. I come up to you and start drying your body with the plush towel. I wipe down every part of you, very softly and gently, kissing you here and there.  They are just soft light kisses, just enough to hear you gently moan.  I want you to anticipate what I have in store for you tonight.  I have waited for you all day. I don't care how tired you are, baby, tonight you are mine... all mine.   My arms around your neck, I look into your eyes and kiss your lips deeply, as I feel you naked flesh against me. Everyday I find more things I love about you. You murmur my name.  The sound of my name on your lips is the only aphrodisiac I ever need.  You draw me closer and kiss my forehead, kiss my eyes, kiss my nose, and I ache for the taste of your mouth on mine.  I put a little oil on my hands and start massage your shoulders; your muscles loosening at my touch.  I kiss your neck.  I continue rubbing down your back all the way to your buttocks, long effleurage strokes, slowly and methodically. I can feel your body relaxing. All thoughts of dinner are gone, as I pull you onto the bed on top of me.

   You look and me with a wry grin and ask "But dessert can't come before dinner?  And besides I need my strength to tangle with you later, woman."

    You are so practical. I think of the pot of water boiling on the stove, the pan of sauce simmering on the back burner, and the cinnamon-sweet apple cobbler waiting for the oven.  I look at you and make a face, sticking out my tongue. You reply "now, now, now there is plenty of time for that later.  Didn't you ever hear the way to man's heart is through his stomach? I am starving!" you laugh.  "You know sometimes, just sometimes, mind you, I hate that you are so sensible, besides I already have your heart; it's the rest of you I want now." Looking at you, I give you a kiss and I just have to smile.  I get up off of the bed, muttering to myself, just loud enough so you can hear, "And I was sure this look was a turn on," I chuckle as I look at myself in the mirror- no make up, hair tied back, dirty apron, yoga pants and a t shirt.  You had already slipped on dark blue plaid cotton pajama pants and a a dark navy work t shirt.  You look at me, kiss me, then playfully slap my ass.  "Don't worry, baby.  You turning me on has never been a problem.  Now keeping you down to a simmer...that's a problem!" you say.  I look at you and just shake my head, you are so lucky I love you" I tell you, as I walk away and I can barely hear you whisper back "I know".

    Grabbing our tea mugs, we head into the kitchen.  You telling me about the frustrations and challenges of your day. I hear the soft sighs in your voice.  I can tell how tired you are. But you are home now, you can relax, unwind and recharge. 
    I set the table for two, a ritual I love to do, after too many nights of eating alone.  Beautiful, homespun stoneware brings a vibrant, organic look and feel, a prism of light sand and stone colors create a backdrop to highlight the subdued leaf pattern, while each piece is complemented by a rich, dark underside, paired with rustic hand blown wine glasses in a mellow tint with rounded pedestal bases; the clean, traditional and timeless lines of our silverware, all set on a beautiful ivory leaf tablecloth, constructed of all natural woven fabrics; with fresh sunflowers and bittersweet accenting the colors on the table along with two small terracotta candles to add ambiance and warmth. 
    I know how much you like things around you to be understated yet elegant, simple but aesthetic.  It is the artist in you.  You have superb taste in everything you choose. And I have tried to make our home a delight to the senses.
    Usually, we have a good Chianti with pasta, but I looked for something different, something special for you tonight.  The wine the vintner suggested is a firm red wine with black fruit, oak and herbs, and proposes to be a wonderful pairing for the hearty meat sauce.  As you pour the Cabernet Sauvignon, the dark berry colored wine filled the glasses, the bouquet hinting of toasty espresso, I drained the pasta and put into a over sized low bowl made especially for serving it.  Pouring the tomato sauce on the pasta, the savory aroma fills the air.  In a slightly smaller bowl, I serve the meatballs and morsels of tender pork that had flavoured the sauce as it cooked for hours. After popping the home made apple cobbler into the oven and setting the timer, I pulled out the simple ensalada of butterleaf lettuce, fresh basil and plum tomatoes, dressed with a dash of balsamic vinaigrette and topped with thick shreds of romano cheese from the refrigerator.  You carry the hot food to the table.  Sneaking a small piece of the savory meat, you smile at me and give me a "thumbs up". I have introduced you to my family tradition of eating your salad after your pasta, with chunks of Italian bread to mop up the extra dressing.  I dish out the steaming linguine dripping with the garlic and basil infused sauce, topping your pasta with fresh grated parmesan cheese.  Before we eat, we pick up our over sized wine glasses and toast as my great grandmother did, "per questo e altro, salut".  It literally means for this and another, but the real meaning is gratitude for all we have today with hope for tomorrow.  "Cent' anni. Grazie, il mio bel, ti amo", I tell you my heart so full of love, as I get lost in  your eyes.  And the last thing on my mind is dinner. 

     In our home, dinner is a leisurely paced meal often taking a hours, eating, drinking, talking and forgetting about the world.  It is "our time" for each other, letting no one else in.  And when we have the pleasure of sharing it with our families, it is a bonding time, a time to "catch up" and reconnect, as well. 

     Sitting close to you, I watch you eat, savoring every bite, every sip.  I pick up my fork and taking a small bite, feed you the rest.  You look at me, smile and open your mouth.  I continue, feeding you mouthfuls of pasta and meatballs.  Your take the fork in your mouth and teasing pull away, never taking your eyes off me.  "Oh honey, I got sauce all over your mouth..let me clean it off," I reach over and lick your lips, ending with a deep kiss.  Silently, you take your finger, dip it in the sauce and rub it on my lips.  Then you return the favor.  "Mmmm, that's nice...what else tastes good?" I wonder aloud.  Again you dip your finger in your plate, and drip the sauce down the front of my low cut shirt onto my cleavage.  "Let's find out," you grin at me.  You get up out of your chair and come over to me.  I stand looking at you smiling.  "We need to take that white shirt off before you get sauce all over it, don't we?" you ask still grinning, while your hands, under my shirt already, undo my lacy white bra. "We can't let these pretty things get all dirty," you say as you pull my shirt and bra off in one movement.  I am standing there topless, tomato sauce dripping between my large full breasts.  Backing me up against the kitchen island, you lean over and lick the sauce, your hands finding my nipples, rub them and pinch them, rolling them between your fingers, chafing them just a little.  I cradle your head between my breasts, as you lift me just enough so I am sitting on the counter.  You grab your dinner dish and wine glass off of the table and put it beside us.  Dunking your fingers in the dish, you spread the sauce on my nipples.  "Oh honey, what if somebody walks in?" I half heartedly protest, not really caring at all. "They can serve themselves dinner," you reply with a mischievous smile.  You very slowly, very deliberately lick my nipples.  Your tongue making circles on the areola. I look down at you and watch you, so arousing, so intent on teasing me.  I watch your tongue as it flicks my nipple.  And immediately, I feel a warmth flooding my body, as my skin flushes pink.  Your hand is rubbing my crotch through my thin pants. The feeling now concentrating between my legs.  I feel the heat followed by feelings too hard to describe; feelings of desire, feelings of need and feelings of love, all jumbled together. And then it starts- the urgency, the wetness, the hunger.  As I watch you skillfully putting me under your spell, I am having such a hard time keeping still, arching my back, moving my hips in small elliptical movements, my arms still wrapped around you holding you tight as shivers go up my spine. You look up at my eyes, seeing the reflection of your own mounting desire. "You OK, babe?" you ask knowing full well the answer.  You run your finger from between my full, soft breasts down to where you can play with the waistband of my pants. I grab the back of your shirt and pull it off of you.  "Ohh, frisky", you laugh. "So much more than frisky, careful baby; you are starting a blaze" I smile back at you.  "Yeah, I feel the heat," you say sliding your hand into my pants, "but I think I can handle it."  I gasp for air.  You pull your fingers out and lick them, "mmm, always my cinnamon girl."   You lay me back on the countertop, lift my legs slightly and pull off my pants.  "I want you," I whisper against your neck, and my fingers go into your hair. I am visibly shuddering, so consumed by my desire.  You are watching me, listening to every gasp, every little moan, hearing me whisper your name. You never fail to stir my blood and I know you love the way I respond to you; never a hesitation or an excuse.  I want you.  I can never get enough of you. Every fiber of my being aches to be reconnected with the other half of my soul. You want me as much as I want you, but you want to prolong our lovemaking. Tonight you have the great need to savour me, to pleasure me.  My response was sensual, tempting you to indulge further; my legs easing apart with encouragement from your caressing hand. You touch me and are unable to resist the sensation of the moistness beneath your fingers and hardened pearl rising to your touch; the utter pleasure of touching the silky smoothness proves too tempting. You grab your wine glass and pour just a little of the ruby liquid onto my overheated skin, gently licking it off. Pouring more wine just a little lower. The anticipation of your touch is driving me crazy. Your tongue slides over my skin just a little lower now. Smoothing your hand along my leg, you slipped your hand in between my thighs; my soft sighs increased as you touch me. Your fingers gently separating the silky lips.  Like a musician now, totally absorbed in the movement of your fingertips over the keys, you raise your head and kiss my mouth again.  I suck on your tongue, tasting the rich Cabernet, tasting you.  Will I ever be able to drink this wine without remembering your sweet lovemaking?  You kiss me, lower and lower still. Then stop, just looking at me, looking at the slightly swollen pink lips, and the hard nub, now erect and so wet.   You feel a rising hunger, and nothing is going to stop you from taking what you want. And you seem to want every part of me.  Restless with desire, my soft whimper grows louder.  The minute your mouth goes on me, seeking that pearl, running your tongue in figure eights around, I call out your name over and over again, pleading, begging for release.  You want to feel that passion build.  You feel as every muscle in my body tightens. You hear me crying your name telling you how much I want you and need you.  As you start to suck on my clit, you slip a finger inside me, touching my most inner being and then another. I don't think I can stand much more.  Your mouth now breathing in my wetness until, with an agonised cry, I stiffen and shudder. Your tongue works it's magic on me and I have one, two, three orgasms in a row.  I need to push you away, but I can't. The pleasure of you is so intense, it hurts.  But I want more. I know I could withstand another orgasm.  Suddenly I feel myself transcend.  Was I still on earth? Was I in heaven? Your tongue brought me to my fourth orgasm and I knew God. And yours is the name I screamed out. Your hands part my legs slightly wider.  I feel your weight on me.  I raise my legs to accommodate you and draw you in, you as you penetrate me with slow gliding thrusts.  Then I lock my legs around your waist, my hips rising to meet yours. I squeeze your cock with my pussy. I feel your body responding and I squeeze harder. I don't let you out of me, riding you, meeting your every thrust. We were both burning. Dewy sweat on our bodies, you feel my hot breath on your neck.  You bend down and kiss me, deeply, your tongue searching for mine. I feel your pulse quicken; your body grow taut. Your heart is pounding with excitement. With every thrust, you are taking me somewhere, heaven or hell I don't know, but I am going willingly.  It seems impossible for you to hold back any longer.  My pussy is grabbing and squeezing your cock in  rhythm to your movements. Your hardness kissing my core in perfect harmony. You are thrusting faster and faster now, and you and I are one person. This time a moan tore through your chest and you shook all over as you started to pulse. I work my inner muscles and rock you through the climax, murmuring our secret language in your ear.  You let out a low growl, sated, exhausted; and nestled into my neck and kiss the bare flesh beneath your lips.  I cradle you to my breasts. "Baby, I love you more than I need you, and I need you more than I want you, and I want you more than you could imagine.  You're mine and in  another 50 yrs, we can renegotiate the terms."
    The afterglow of our satisfied bliss, was abruptly disturbed by the sound of a smoke alarm. You get up hurriedly and open the oven.  Smoke pours out.  You look at me and laugh.  "Good thing I already had my cinnamon and honey dessert," you chuckled as you look at the poor burned mess that was my apple cobbler.
    "Tu sei il mio amante bello meraviglioso e tutto mio." I smile at you.


Cinnamon Girl

I wanna live
with a cinnamon girl
I could be happy
the rest of my life
With a cinnamon girl.

A dreamer of pictures
I run in the night
You see us together,
chasing the moonlight,
My cinnamon girl.

Ten silver saxes,
a bass with a bow
The drummer relaxes
and waits between shows
For his cinnamon girl.

A dreamer of pictures
I run in the night
You see us together,
chasing the moonlight,
My cinnamon girl.

Pa sent me money now
I'm gonna make it somehow
I need another chance
You see your baby loves to dance

Neil Young


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aAdtUDaBfRA